And new philosophy calls all in doubt, The element of fire is quite put out; The sun is lost, and the earth, and no man's wit, Can well direct him where to look for it. And freely men confess that this world's spent, When in the planets, and the firmament They seek so many new; then see that this Is crumbled out again to his atomies. 'Tis all in pieces, all coherence gone; All just supply, and all relation: Prince, subject, Father, Son, are things forgot.

Sir, more than kisses, letters mingle souls; For, thus friends absent speak.

We understood Her by her sight; her pure, and eloquent blood Spoke in her cheeks, and so distinctly wrought, That one might almost say, her body thought.

Ah cannot we As well as cocks and lions jocund be, After such pleasures?

We live in a beautiful and orderly world, not in a chaos without norms, as we sometimes seem to.

Progress everywhere today does seem to come so very heavily disguised as chaos.

Chaos often breeds life, when order breeds habit.